Winter Tales
by elveriamoir
Summary: This will be a collection of short stories based on a Christmas theme and set in Tolkien's world. I hope you enjoy them.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: I don't own any of The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.**_

 _ **Wishing you all a very happy Christmas.**_ _ **Enjoy yourselves. Live, laugh and love (a little or a lot it's up to you). Eat far too much food and drink far too much in general. Watch daft films, relive old memories and create new traditions. Season's greetings and the best wishes to you all.**_

 _ **A Leaf From The Tree of Songs**_

 _ **By Adam Christianson**_

 _ **When harpers once in wooden hall  
A shining chord would strike  
Their songs like arrows pierced the soul  
Of great and low alike**_

 _ **Aglow by hearth and candleflame  
From burning branch ot ember  
The mist of all their music sang  
As if to ask in wonder**_

 _ **Is there a moment quite as keen  
Or memory as bright  
As light and fire and music sweet  
To warm the winter's night?**_

 _ **This will be a collection of short stories based on a Christmas theme and set in Tolkien's world. I hope you enjoy them.**_

The Winter Solstice.

The snow drifted gently from the midnight sky, painting the ground in a layer of sparkling white velvet. The frost wove a dazzling tapestry on bough, leaf and cobweb, while the ice drew patterns on glass and water. 'Twas the night before Yule and all the inhabitants of the Shire were in their homes, tucked safely in their beds. Patchwork quilts kept out the tiny slivers of cold that managed to creep around the heat thrown from banked fires and the smells of a days' worth of baking still hung in the air.

Dawn on Yule crept in slowly, long after the last inhabitant had awakened. As the fresh snow was bathed in a pink glow the excited shrieks of small faunts filled the air followed closely by the laughter of the adults accompanying them. The large bonfires in each township were to be lit this day and they would feast until the moon hung full in the sky once more.

Each township had its own ceremony, songs of joy and wonder, words of praise and delight. When the elder had given their blessing the fires were lit and the celebration could truly begin. Musicians dressed in the deepest of red and green velvets struck up tunes, girls in silver or gold embroidered bodices swirled their full skirt of mahogany brocade showing crisp white petticoats. Lads struck up a jig, their bronze or copper embroidered waistcoats and cocoa cord trousers glowing in the firelight.

The smell of roasted meat filled the air as spits were turned over smaller fire pits and pine smoke wafted on the breeze. Kegs of deep ale were tapped and cauldrons of mulled ruby wine steamed gently. Dowagers and Gaffers sat at long tables wrapped in woollen cloaks of the richest purples, blues and pinks. Children in layers of brightly coloured knits built fortresses in the snow and waged war on each other. Freshly married couples dressed in their wedding clothes jumped the broom to well wishes and catcalls. While those just starting on the route of courtship stole away for shy kisses under the mistletoe.

In the midst of all this sat four hobbits wrapped in fur lined cloaks and dressed in velvets of the softest shades of silver-grey. Samwise Gamgee met the eyes of Meriadoc Brandy Buck, Peregrin Took and Rosie Gamgee ne Cotton and raised his glass. No words were spoken as the now grey haired and wrinkled quartet drank to long lost friends and memories. For it was as Bilbo Baggins had always said. Things were made to endure in the Shire.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: I don't own any of The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.**_

 _ **May the dawn of the Winter Solstice chase the dark away.**_

 _ **May it bring to you the promise of endless brand new days.**_

 _ **May all your sorrow vanish. And all your dreams come true.**_

 _ **And may the light of the Winter Solstice always shine on you.**_

 _ **Warning: Food porn.**_

Feast Day.

Bombur groaned as he rolled from his bed and dressed in the still darkness of the early morn. He'd spent the day previous in the kitchens with those who worked with him preparing for the day. Now they had to be down early to start the ovens and so the meal would be ready for that night. He was honoured to be chosen to work on the Feast Day. Mahal had granted him this blessing and there would be feasting in the Father's name that night.

Finally awake he strolled into the kitchens whistling a rolling tune. As he twisted his beard and braids out of the way, and even as he was donning the protective wear the first of the songs started.

Laughter and song filled the kitchen as they worked. For once they were cooking purely dwarven recipes and for the first time in a long time their supplies were plentiful.

Great steaming pies, made with suet pastry were the first to be made. Bombur grinned as he piled the beef, thyme and stout mixture into its casing. The next table along he could see Gladkral doing the same for the lamb, rosemary and garlic version. While Gorvae was taking great delight in teaching a new cook the finer details of his pigeon, bacon and hyssop pie. The lad's eyes going wide as he realised just how much ruby ale was in the mixture.

Pies in the oven they started on the meat itself. Bombur found himself in charge of the venison and rubbed his hands gleefully. He'd set a loin of the meat to marinate in a sloe gin and blackberry glaze the previous night and this he set to cook himself. His fellow cooks were working with other cuts. One was pan searing a blackberry, shallot and red wine coated joint. While another was roasting a rack of venison that had been cleverly coated in a garlic and herb crust.

Across the room the head cook was sweating gently as he spit roasted the boar Kili had caught on the princes' last hunting trip. Several pheasants, were been carefully roasted with either cider and blackberries or a lemon and thyme crust. Full salmons had been smoked when they were in season and there were now several cooks carefully slicing them and dressing them with butter, garlic, scallions, dill, parsley, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Duck was slowly simmering in the ovens, along with pans of either black cherry or raspberry ju. Sides of ham had been pre-baked and sat gleaming and golden in cold storage. Some were simple, roasted as they came while others had been studded with cloves, slices of oranges slipped under the skin. Some had been doused in a sugar syrup and others studded with pepper corns.

Vegetables were to be few in variety, but great in choices of dishes. Mushrooms braised in garlic butter, or deep fried in a groundnut batter. Mushrooms baked in blue cheese, or griddled with lashings of salt and pepper. Parsnips were roasted in a honey and black pepper glaze, or griddled with a handful of raspberries. There was a large pan of thick and creamy parsnip soup, and baby parsnips boiled until tender and coated in butter. Potatoes came in all forms, from the rich garlic and herb mash, to roasted in beef dripping. There were some cold and smothered in chives and sour cream, and others fried with chestnuts. There were fluffy croquettes and cheesy dauphinoise. Some had been baked in their skins in the embers of the flames. Finally there were the onions. Some had been simply boiled, some were pickled in a sweet, but herby vinegar. Others were fried until crispy, some battered. Onion and garlic soup sat bubbling merrily and some were baked after being wrapped in this slices of ham and covered with cheese.

Rounds of cheese came out of cold storage, and Bombur couldn't help but chuckle again at the sheer variety there. Some were filled with herbs, others fruit and some peppers or onions. There was a selection of blue cheese, soft cheese, hard cheese and spreadable cheese. These were trayed up with crackers of all kinds and loaves of bread fresh from the ovens.

Bombur smiled slyly as the last of the savouries left the kitchen. Dessert was a serious business. He was in charge of the large crumbles that needed to be sent out. The crumble itself was the same for all of his dishes. Brown sugar, butter, nutmeg and cinnamon. The fillings were mouth-watering. Black cherry with raspberries, hibiscus syrup and a splash of rum. Apples cooked with brown sugar, nutmeg and a hefty dose of Calvados. The first of the rhubarb, liberally enhanced with whiskey and ginger. The final filling was of pears with a vanilla liqueur and enhanced with ground almonds.

Across the room cooks battle with vats of egg custard, valiantly getting the balance of nutmeg and creaminess just right. Jugs of thick cream and brandy laced sauce were the final additions to the trays that were made up.

As the final server left the kitchens a small silence filled the air as every cook took a relieved breath. The head cook was the first to break. Chuckling merrily he cracked open several bottles of spiced rum which had been warming next to the fire and his wife ladled out bowls of steaming beef and ale casserole with chunks of thyme bread.

While the nobles, royalty and patrons of Erebor finished their feast the cooks honoured Mahal in their own way.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: I don't own any of The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.**_

 _ **Lord of the Dance**_

 _ **Traditional**_

 _ **I danced in the morning when the world was begun  
I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun;  
I was called from the darkness by the song of the earth,  
I joined in the singing and she gave me birth.**_

 _ **(chorus, repeat after each verse)**_

 _ **Dance, then, wherever you may be!  
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he,  
And I'll lead you on, wherever you may be, I will lead you all in the Dance, said he!**_

 _ **I sleep in the kernel and I dance in the rain,  
I dance in the wind, and through the waving grain,  
And when you cut me down, I care nothing for the pain -  
In Spring I'll be Lord of the Dance again!**_

 _ **I see the maidens laughing as they dance in the sun,  
I count the fruits of the of the harvest, one by one;  
I know the storm is coming, but the grain is all stored,  
So I sing of the dance of the Lady and the Lord.**_

 _ **We dance ever slower as the leaves fall and spin  
And the sound of the Horn is the wailing of the wind;  
The Earth is wrapped in stillness and we move in a trance,  
but we hold on fast to our faith in the dance.**_

 _ **The sun is in the south and the days lengthen fast,  
And soon we'll sing for the winter that is past,  
Now we light the candles and rejoice as they burn,  
and Dance the dance of the sun's return.**_

 _ **They cut me down, but I leap up high!  
I am life that will never, never die.  
I'll live in you and you'll live in me -  
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he!**_

 _ **The moon in her phases and the tides of the sea,  
the movement of Earth, and the seasons that will be  
Are rhythm for the dancing and a promise through the years -  
The Dance goes on through joy and tears.**_

 _ **Warning: Food porn.**_

 _ **Warning: Clothing porn.**_

Masquerade Ball.

Tauriel hummed to herself as she left her final guard duty of the year. She had a break over Yule, and had been gifted with an invite to the Royal Masquerade Ball by Aran Thranduil. She had acted calm as she had thanked him gracefully, but ever since that moment she had been secretly squealing with joy.

In her rooms she set to getting ready. Despite having several hours she knew her hair would take the longest time to do, especially as it needed to be washed and oiled. Due to her new position as head guard she had a bathing area in her chambers, and thanks to her ordered nature the serving ladies had just finished filling it as she arrived. Gratefully accepting their help she was soon stripped of armour and her heavy duty patrol wear. The ladies left with shy smiles and soft utterances and Tauriel sank in to the heavenly scented bath water. As the steam rose in spirals the smell of cloves and citrus filled her senses and reinvigorated her. The lotions and soap she used in bathing was sandalwood fragranced and added another layer to the spell been woven on her person.

Feeling cleansed she left the bath with a new spring in her step and swing to her hips. Wrapping a soft towel about her person and a separate one around her mass of hair she left her bathing area and lit the few candles that dotted her chamber. The fire roared back to life as she sprinkled with clove and citrus oil, bathing her rooms in heat and flickering light. Gently patting her skin dry she rubbed sandalwood oil into her still milky skin and slipped into her cream, silken under garments. 

Hair still wrapped in its towel, she took the opportunity of it still being restrained to corset herself in the gold embroidered, cream lace corset that went under her dress. As she finished the lacing she stepped in front of the floor length mirror taking up a full corner of her chambers. The corset sat straight and the line of her stockings ran smoothly up the direct centre of her calves. Nodding with a satisfied smile Tauriel pulled the first towel from her hair, and dropped the two used ones into her laundry. Taking a second towel, the bottle of sandalwood oil and a sapphire enamelled silver comb she wrapped an azure silk robe about her person and slipped along the corridor to Legolas' quarters.

He opened the door at her first gentle knock and greeted her with a wide smile and a glass of sparkling rose wine. Due to years of comradery she was completely at ease in his presence, while he merely took the towel from her, tied his own robe more securely and shooing her into a seat set about drying and coming her fiery tresses one layer at a time. The motion was soothing and as she sipped at her drink she chatted about inconsequential things. Legolas chuckled occasionally and with her hair finally dry set about soothing the oil through its length.

When he was satisfied he tapped her on the shoulder and she tilted her head back to meet his eyes. She raised an eyebrow and smiled coyly as he held up green and gold embroidered cream ribbons. She nodded and he clapped happily. Knowing he wouldn't let her see until he was finished Tauriel closed her eyes and hummed as Legolas' deft fingers wove the ribbons into her hair.

A gentle kiss to her forehead awoke her from her daze and she allowed herself to be led to his mirror. A wide smile split her face as she took in the work of art he had created in her hair. Five braids ran along her scalp, entwined with the finest ribbon of gold edges cream silk. These braids had been twisted up into an elegant bun atop her head, leaving the lower half of her hair to hang in gentle waves down her back. The bun was threaded through with emerald green, rune embroidered, cream, velvet ribbon and several green gems glinted in the candle light.

Pressing a swift kiss to Legolas' cheek Tauriel left his room to the sound of his laughter and almost danced back along the corridor to her own. Before the door had fully closed behind her, the silken robe was thrown onto the bed and she finished her preparations for the ball. Simple dancing slippers of cream velvet were first to be donned, followed by a dab of rose oil at her pulse points. Careful of her hair she shook her gown free of its protective wrappings and stepped into it. The skirt flowed about her heels in a waterfall of forest green velvet as she carefully fastened the tiny hooks and eyes up its back, the clear crystals around the bust embroidery gleamed in the firelight and she felt her posture change from the of slightly awkward Captain of the Guard to that of a confident, beautiful female. Raising her chin at her reflection Tauriel spun allowing the skirt to flare as she walked to her dresser.

Forgoing the current trends she dotted a fine line of gold liquid along her upper and lower lash line, before dusting her eyelids with a pale, shimmering powder. Around her neck she clasped a fine gold chain, from which hung a fine golden butterfly, studded with chips of emerald. This nestled at the hollow of her collar bone and caught the light beautifully. Her mask was of worked gold and was as untraditional as her, framing her expressive eyes to perfection. Her final act was to slip a simple emerald studded gold cuff on her upper left arm, leaving her hands and arms bare.

Aware of the time Tauriel slipped from her room and made it to an antechamber without being spotted. Legolas joined her barely two minutes later and she smiled widely as he struck a pose. His mask was of dark green lace and seemed to be painted onto his fair skin. His golden hair was threaded with deep green ribbons, despite being in its traditional warrior braids. He wore leggings of the softest cream velvet, while his long sleeved under tunic was of gold embroidered forest green silk. His over tunic was of heavily embroidered cream brocade, the gold embroidery swirling around chips of sparkling clear crystal at its high neck line. Finishing off his look were a pair of cream leather boots and a gold embroidered cream leather belt.

Mischievous smiles firmly in place the two descended the carved stair case of the grand ball room. Ignoring the looks they were receiving they swept onto the dance floor and started to move with a deadly grace to the waltz being played.

From his seat Thranduil watched his heir and his head of guard turn heads and confuse everyone. He smiled in remembrance. It had been a tradition of his wife and himself to do so every Yule while she had still been with them. It seemed his son was determined to carry on this tradition and so as the dance finished he rose to applaud them.

Tauriel froze in Legolas' arms as the king himself applauded their dance. He looked breath taking with the crown of frosted berries in his golden hair and the hoare touching those locks and eyebrows. She relaxed as she saw the grey eyes sparkle with mirth behind his silver mask. The king was dressed in silver and white brocade robes, with trousers of the palest grey, and a tunic of white velvet. At his throat sat a chain of shimmering white gems and in his hand he held the currently winter touched sceptre of the forest.

Tauriel watched as Thranduil gestured for the musicians to play the traditional Yule hymnal and lay down the sceptre. The crowed parted for him as he moved softly threw them, an ethereal vision among the brilliantly coloured crowd.

Tauriel greeted him with a low bow only to be pulled into a graceful hug and swirled onto the floor by the king himself. Legolas' bright laughter filled the air as scandalised gasps echoed around them.

After she had danced with the King, Tauriel was rescued by Legolas and they spent a good few hours sipping spiced crimson wine and simply people watching. Thranduil joined them occasionally and in these moments the conversation turned to what people were wearing. Thranduil took offence to the low cut dresses females had chosen to turn up to a Yule ball in. Legolas had difficulty with accepting the males dressed in brilliant scarlet, while Tauriel herself was puzzled how several of her fellow ladies were managing to dance in their oversized skirts.

As Yule tradition dictated, Thranduil welcomed in the morn with a speech and a song. Eyes flew wide as this year he was joined by Tauriel and Legolas as he sung. The voices of the trio reached far into the heavens above the fortress. And for the first Yule since The Greenwood had lost its queen, silver-white snow fell from the sky to turn their home into a winter wonderland.

 _ **For Tauriel's dress search**_

 _ **For Tauriel's mask search s-media-cache-ak0. pinimg 736x/d1/40/e0/d140e06ace74da6c**_

 _ **For Legolas' mask search https systatic 066/0/10651186/il _214x170.774284858_**_

 _ **For Thranduil's mask search g01.a. alicdn kf/HT B1Aftr IXXXXXbA XFXXq6xXFXXX8/Free-Shipping-E legant-WHITE-Venetian-Metal-Women-Loves-Filigree-Laser-Cut-Masquer ade-Mask-w-Rhinestones-PrincessMask .jpg**_


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